


Conversations

by ioanite



Category: Hornblower (TV), Hornblower RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ioanite/pseuds/ioanite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few things need to be hashed out before actor and character can move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversations

"Ioan."  
  
The soft, almost nervous voice causes Ioan to freeze in his tracks. Then he puts a hand over his eyes. "God, not now. I don't have time for this."  
  
A lanky figure reclines on Ioan's sofa, one hand holding a cigarette in a way that most old-time actors would envy. "Please. I just want to talk. I need to know, once and for all, what future we have."  
  
"Look, I'm a little busy trying to build a future with Alice. You know, my _wife_." Ioan doesn't really mean to be irritated, but these surprise visits are getting a little bothersome.  
  
The figure takes a drag on the cigarette. "I know, and I don't blame you. You want a family, more than I ever did. But--and I would be disgraced if anyone heard this--right now, I want _you._ "  
  
Ioan sighs and moves towards the couch. "Budge up. You want to talk, we'll talk"  
  
Obligingly, the man moves over, and Ioan all but falls into the vacant seat. "Right, what's brought about this 'I want to be with you again' thing? I hadn't heard from you in ages, and now you keep popping into my life."  
  
"It's all your fault. You raised my hopes, back in '07. Then it turned out to be false. That's when I realized just how much I missed you."  
  
"I'm sorry about that, but you know news reporters. They blow everything out of proportion."  
  
Ioan sees the young man roll his eyes. "Times never change." He sucks on the cigarette again. "Those are bad for your health, you know." Ioan points out.  
  
A rare smirk crosses his companion's face. "Explain the picture of you with the glass of scotch and the cigar. Which led, I recall, to the photo that proves that you apparently don't wear underwear."  
  
Ioan turns bright red. "Leave that picture out of this you...nudist!"  
  
"You had NO problem helping me bare all to our adoring public back in '01, my dear sir. So stop calling the kettle black."  
  
"When did you develop a sense of humor?"  
  
"I prefer to think of it as sarcasm and cynicism, myself." The young man shakes his head; if Ioan didn't know better, he'd swear the man was flaunting his curls. "But this bickering is getting us nowhere. Tell me the truth, Ioan. Is there any chance of us getting together again? Any at all?"  
  
Brown eyes meet brown eyes. They're still focused steadily on each other when Ioan shakes his head. "No."  
  
His companion turns away and mashes out the cigarette in the ashtray Ioan keeps there for guests. "I figured as much. No one's interested in me anymore."  
  
"Don't say that." Ioan touches the man's thin shoulder.  
  
"It's true. When the show was cancelled, it became clear that my story was too expensive and too bloody long to be considered for any medium other than the written word. And now that C.S. is gone, any hope of breathing new life into me is gone."  
  
Ioan doesn't know what to say to that. What can one say in this situation?  
  
Hornblower slides off the sofa, straightening his epaulette. "Well, at least I won't be forced to see you in blue spandex anymore. That helps a little."  
  
Ioan laughs a little. "I've always said period pieces were my forte."  
  
"That they are." A small smile lurks on Hornblower's lips, "You were robbed of the Oscar for _Amazing Grace._ "  
  
"Oh, stop." Ioan isn't sure if he wants to blush or cry. Hornblower turns to face him again. "I know A&E's decision wasn't your fault. And I know you couldn't stay with me forever. I just wish we'd had more time."  
  
Ioan nods. Hornblower touches his shoulder. "Just do me one favor. Don't forget me."  
  
"Mr. Hornblower," Ioan says, sliding into the old accent as if he were born with it, "I am forever in your debt. You got me to where I am now."  
  
Hornblower bows. "Then you've done all I can ask for. Now, I've taken up too much of your time. I'll take my leave."  
  
Ioan wants to call him back, to apologize, to make some sort of parting joke, but he blinks and the vision is gone.  
  
"Ioan?" Alice pokes her head in the door. "I thought I heard you talking to someone. Do we have company?"  
  
Ioan shakes his head, not looking at her, wiping his eyes. "Just talking to myself, angel. Sorting things out."


End file.
